


Thursday Detention with Mr. Jones

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Crossdressing, He's eighteen okay?, I ain't havin underage stuff, M/M, Teacher/Student, mindless smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 12:19:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1304674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin decides to finally break his favorite teacher.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thursday Detention with Mr. Jones

**Author's Note:**

> Reposted from my tumblr. Sorry if you've seen it before, didn't mean to clutter your feed. <3

       Gavin knew he looked hot. He had picked this outfit out specially for his Thursday afternoon detention with Mr. Jones. His crisp black button up was snug and coming untucked from his red and grey plaid miniskirt. Black thigh high stockings graced his legs, and  red heels in-cased his feet. He smirked as he walked in, murmuring a husky hello to Mr. Jones who’s eyes were popping out of his head.

"Good afternoon, Gavin, take a seat and don’t speak, you may do homework." Mr. Jones’  face was a faint shade of scarlet and he avoided Gavin’s eyes. Gavin grinned, he knew this would get to Mr. Jones. Gavin had been crushing on him ever since the beginning of the year when he found out that Mr. Jones was the guy he often played Xbox with online. Of course, Michael (he wasn’t allowed to call him Michael) had to unfriend him when he discovered that he was a student, but it didn’t deter Gavin at all. The gorgeous curly haired teacher, whom he’d heard let out a litany of curses that would put most sailors to shame during their game sessions, was a prize Gavin wanted to take. He had spent time dropping subtle and not-so-subtle hints usually resulting in an adorable blush that was quickly covered by a stern reprimand, but sometimes Gavin caught Mr. Jones staring at him, devouring his body with his eyes whenever Gavin would wear tight shirts, or the skinny jeans he’d accidentally bought. 

He could see Michael’s face set into a determined glare now. He was staring at the papers he’s been grading before; Gavin knew he’d definitely gotten to him this time. He’d seen Mr. Jones outside of a drag club before looking extraordinarily drunk and extraordinarily occupied with a slutty twink. Seeing that had put this plan in motion inside his head. Gavin had made sure to get Thursday detention. Mr. Jones was the only teacher in this building on Thursdays, and no other kids chose Thursday detention over Monday detention because of sports.

"So, Mr. Jones, what do you think of my outfit?" Gavin asked innocently. Mr. Jones tightened his grip on the red pen he was holding.

"Be quiet, Free."

"But you didn’t answer my question," Gavin fake pouted, "I picked it out especially for you, it would really suck if you didn’t like it." Michael sighed heavily through his nose, ignoring Gavin and continuing to glare at his ungraded papers. Gavin leaned forward, his chin in his hands, and grinned at Michael. His stare unwavering. God Michael was cute, all those freckles and the way his voice commanded obedience. Not to mention he was a fresh graduate, so he wasn’t that much older than Gavin. Mr. Jones let out a sigh when Gavin didn’t look away.

"Gavin, I know you think you have this crush on me, and I know you think that just because we’ve played video games together before makes us friends, but I. Am. Your. Teacher. What you’re doing and suggesting is beyond inappropriate," Mr. Jones gave him a stern look.

"I’m eighteen Mr. Jones, it’s all perfectly fine. I know what I’m doing." Gavin slide out of his desk, walking slowly towards Michael. "Plus, I know you want me, I’ve seen it in your eyes. You even said you liked me when we chatted. Just because you teach me doesn’t mean you can’t have what you want."

"Sit down." Gavin only came closer. "Free, if you don’t sit down-"

"You’ll do what? Spank me?" Gavin’s tone was low and teasing. He trailed a finger along the glossy wooden finish of Michael’s desk as he rounded the corner. He was behind the desk now and Michael was blushing a fantastic shade of scarlet. "You like that don’t you? Me at your mercy, crying out your name while you tell me how I’m such a naughty boy that deserves to be punished." Gavin felt his cock twitch at the thought.

"Gavin, stop. This is unethical and I could get fired," Michael’s voice quavered, and even as he said the words, he pushed his chair back slightly to make room for Gavin behind the desk.

"Nobody’s ever in this building on Thursdays. We’re all alone," Gavin braced his palms on the desk behind him and hopped onto it, crossing his legs so that the tops of his thighs were exposed. Michael wet his lips subconsciously, his eyes zoning in on the discovered flesh.

"You’re wearing thigh-highs," Michael whispered brokenly. He looked as if his own personal hell had just come strolling into the room in the form of a British twink. Which: valid point.

"Yep, just for you, I was hoping you’d like them," Gavin uncrossed his legs and scooted to the middle of the desk. He was right in front of Michael now; he spread his legs slightly, just enough to cause curiosity. Mr. Jones took a deep breath in and held it, inner turmoil on his face.

"Gavin, please," he whined, his brown eyes shifting up to meet Gavin’s. They were pleading and desperate, the arousal carefully guarded but prominent.

"Mr. Jones, would you like to know what I’m wearing under this skirt?"

"Gavin, it’s wrong, we shouldn’t-" Michael’s resolve was faltering.

"Black lace panties," Gavin smirked as Michael’s eyes dropped to his skirt once again, a shocked look on his face. Gavin shimmied a little, spreading his legs more and letting the skirt ride up. Michael groaned.

"Why do you do this to me?"

"Because I like you, Mr. Jones," Gavin wrapped his fingers around Michael’s tie. "Because I want you." Gavin pulled him into a kiss. It was awkward at first, Michael not responding, but Gavin could practically here the words ‘fuck it’ run through his head as he began to kiss back. It was passionate, tongues battling for dominance and Mr. Jones’ hands pushing on Gavin’s shoulders until he was down on the desk. The papers from before were brushed aside and Michael broke away the kiss.

"Make absolutely no noise, and never speak of this. Ever," Michael started to unbutton Gavin’s shirt, nipping at each newly exposed piece of skin. Gavin sighed happily; he loved getting what he wanted.

"Mmkay, can I call you Michael?"

"No."

"But-" Michael slapped him on the thigh just hard enough to give a prickling warning, effectively silencing Gavin’s  protest to a tiny squeak. He unbuttoned his own shirt and popped the button on his jeans. Michael was definitely worth looking at. His chest was dusted in a smattering of freckles just like his face, and Gavin was overcome with the urge to taste every one of them. He leaned over Gavin, a smirk settling on his face.

"I like you calling me Mr, it….adds to the experience," Michael leaned down to suck lightly on Gavin’s neck, his hands rubbing down Gavin’s sides.

"Is this a kink I spy, Mr. Jones," Gavin drug out his name, tangling his fingers in Michael’s hair. He’s met with another chiding slap. What can he say, Gavin never was good at following rules.

"Hands on the desk, don’t take them off." Gavin reluctantly pulls away and raises his arms above his head, gripping the edge of the desk behind him. Michael continued his assault on Gavin’s neck, his hands exploring the body under him, tracing every plane. 

"Mr. Jones," Gavin whined, he wanted those hands on a different spot, a spot that was begging for attention. 

"What did I say about noise?" Michael pulled away and left no contact points, raising his eyebrows. His hair was disheveled and he looked absolutely wicked. He held his composure well in his face, but his eyes were dark with lust. Gavin let out a groan but shut his mouth as commanded. Michael smiled. "Good boy." He placed his hands on Gavin’s stocking covered knees, rubbing slowly up to his thighs. "These were a really nice touch, I love the way your legs look. I nearly died when I saw you walk in with this outfit. I can’t wait to see what you use to try and seduce me next time." Next time, there would be a next time. Gavin grinned and Michael finally, fucking finally, reached Gavin’s dick. He stroked it slowly through the panties, almost thoughtfully. Gavin tried to buck up into the touch but was met with a restraining hand on his hip. 

He whined at the teasing, he’d expected to have at least been prepped by now. Michael slowly, agonizingly slowly slid the panties down Gavin’s legs. He tossed them to the side and then smiled sheepishly. “I uh, wasn’t exactly expecting to be fucking anybody on my desk today, so I’m not exactly prepared.” Gavin laughed.

"Supplies are in my left stocking." 

"A bit cocky are we?" Michael took out the packets and tore open the lube. He slicked up two fingers and slid them inside of Gavin carefully.

"Alwa-" Gavin hissed at the intrusion, bucking his hips again,"always come prepared. Figured if this didn’t get you-FUCK-nothing would." Michael chuckled and added a third finger, scissoring and crooking the digits just right. Gavin let out a sound as if he’d been punched. He’d never been one for noises, but this no-noise rule only made his urge to beg that more prevalent. "Please.." Gavin squeaked out quietly, his nails digging into the wood of the desk. He was so close to his fantasy. Michael mercifully pulled his fingers out, ripped open the condom packet. He filled Gavin up with his cock in one thrust, Gavin’s back arched off of the desk. "FU-ck, Mr. Jones!" Michael gave him a shushing look. Gavin quieted himself and let out a keen as the stretch and burn set every nerve ending on fire. Michael’s hands trailing down his sides left an inferno in their wake, the flames of arousal licking at every pore, and the quiet hiss that escaped Michael’s lips made Gavin’s stomach do flips. This was what he had wanted since he’d heard Michael screaming obscenities over a headset in a dark room lit only by the glow of his TV. His fantasy was here, happening, now all he had to do was ride it out. 

Michael started off slowly, pulling his lip between his teeth and trying to restrain himself. Gavin closed his eyes and wiggled, trying his best to speed Michael up. Michael soon obliged and began powering into Gavin. He wrapped his legs around Michael’s back, digging his heels into the flesh. He wanted to touch himself so badly, but Michael had said to keep his hands on the desk. He feared that if he moved them, Michael might stop his delicious onslaught. Gavin tried to seek out friction but found none as Michael continued his brutal pace, each thrust pushing a gust of breath out of Gavin. It was hot and quiet except for their labored breathing and the soft scraping sound that might have been the desk scooting across the floor. Michael started stroking Gavin in time with his thrusts. It was all a tumble to orgasm from there as Michael’s thrusts became erratic, and each blow sent sparks through Gavin’s body. Gavin came with a strangled cry. Michael continued on for a few seconds afterward, stilling when he came, his head thrown back and mouth open in a silent curse. He slumped over Gavin, and they stayed like that for a while, their breathing evened with the clock sounding out its loud ticks in the silent room.

"Well that was…." Michael trailed off.

"Yeah," Gavin tried to unclench his hands from the desk. His fingers were stiff when he flexed them. Michael pulled out of him and tied off the condom. Looking from it to the trashcan with his nose scrunched up a bit. He finally wadded it up inside a large ball of paper,  good enough disguise from the janitor, zipped up his jeans, and buttoned his shirt back up.

"It’s a good thing nobody ever gets Thursday detention."

"It definitely is." Gavin was already thinking of his next crime to land him back in this room and back under Michael. Maybe they could trade blowjobs next. "I think your desk moved a good three inches."

"Yeah, I was pretty out of it by the end," a silence stretched on between the two of them.

"So, Mr. Jones, does this mean I get extra credit?" Gavin waggled his eyebrows. 

He chuckled at Michael’s answer.

"You fucking wish, Free." 


End file.
